


A Dance Meant For Three

by Jules_Tenebra



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ballroom, Dancing, F/M, Gotta start 2k19 w a bang why not?, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I blame Becca for this tbh, I'm bad at tags HELP, Introspective POV, M/M, Multi, Natasha POV (kinda), Of the 1st of January, Pre-Relationship, Pre-WinterIronWidow, Sweet, at 5am, established winteriron, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules_Tenebra/pseuds/Jules_Tenebra
Summary: "But still she allowed herself to dream, between the cool silk sheets of her new bed (of her new life), of what their kisses tasted of, how their touches would feel. If they could ever look at her the way they look at each other."





	A Dance Meant For Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gothic_Lolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/gifts).



> So, Gothic_Lolita and I were talking and she gave me this idea which spiraled into this work. She also Beta-ed for me cuz she's awesome like that.  
> Love ya, Becca!

The song started to play. Couples joined by their hands, all occupying the now full ballroom. Gowns of all styles and lengths, men using the most refined suits, women dripping jewelry. But Natasha’s eyes could only focus on one pair and not even for the riches they were wearing, but for who they were.  

 

Tony and Bucky were dancing as if they were without a care in the world, eyes fixed on each other, smiles soft and sweet. Natasha couldn’t help but admire their strong shoulders, the way Tony’s smaller frame moved together with Bucky’s. She allowed herself to wonder for a second, if her body could fit beside theirs. Maybe if they would still move as they were now, if they could be even better. If-

 

No. She knew she was being foolish. That she didn’t deserve this kind of ending, not with what she used to do (a traitorous part of her couldn’t help but whisper, ‘ _ But wasn’t Bucky the same?’ _ ), not with who she was. Her ledger still dripped with far too much red for her to be allowed that kind of happiness, that kind of ambrosia that would only those worthy could taste, that kind of  _ love _ . 

 

But still she allowed herself to dream, between the cool silk sheets of her new bed (of her new life), of what their kisses tasted of, how their touches would feel. If they could ever look at her the way they look at each other. Love was for children, she would tell herself after waking up unfulfilled, empty. She wasn’t a child. (She wasn’t sure if she ever had been one, if she was honest with herself.)

 

Natasha sipped her drink, staining the crystal cup with the red of her lipstick. The music finished, Bucky and Tony still as close to each other as they were before the dance started. Bucky dipped his back, gave Tony’s hand a kiss and smiled that roguish smile that only he had and Tony laughed sweet and soft (and not hers.)

 

Why did she have to fall? She wondered once more, repeated the question that troubled her sleepless nights. Why? She, who thought her heart had long since learned not to feel.  _ Why? _

 

Another song started and the redhead couldn’t help her wistful eyes of trying to find the lovers once more, but in her distraction they had mixed with the crowd, hiding from her. ( _ As far from her reach as they always were. _ ) Part of her couldn’t help but feel relief that their forms wouldn’t haunt her anymore, at least not tonight, but their presence was still fresh, their touches still warm on her ghost-like skin. 

 

She gripped the cup with a bit more strength, felt herself shake a little, her body as restless as her mind as she walked around the ballroom, feeling eyes from all sides following her steps. (Except for two pairs, brown and blue.)

_ (The ones she wanted the most.) _

 

She drank a little more, tried to forget. Looked for her teammates in the crowd, tried to find a distraction for her troubled mind. Tried all and everything. In vain. 

 

She still hadn’t found the ones who occupied her thoughts. But in her mind they were still dancing, pressing body against body, all to their own rhythm, as if their music sang louder than that of the orchestra. (It did.)

 

So lost she was in her own music, she couldn’t help but startle (How had she allowed herself to grow so lax in her paranoia?) as someone softly gripped her shoulder from behind. She was ready to ask who it was when another hand joined on her waist, a charming smile that she knew too well meeting her eyes.

 

“Tasha,” Tony started, and the way the nickname rolled on his lips made her breath stop for a second, barely noticeable. It took her a moment between a word and the next to realize the hand on her shoulder wasn’t flesh ( _ Bucky’s _ ) and that it was Tony holding her waist, “Would you like to dance the next set with us?” 

 

“I’m sorry?” Natasha couldn’t help but ask, thinking that maybe her mind was playing tricks with her, for it couldn’t be that Tony was asking her to dance with  _ them _ , “There is no ‘us’. A dance is meant for only two. A way to dance with the one you want to the melody of one's heart or some such a thing.” She arched her eyebrow, eyes narrowing but heart blossoming with hopes she dared not name.

 

“Well, while that is actually true in some way,” The older man started, drawing her even closer to himself as Bucky also brought himself nearer her and Natasha couldn’t help but feel her body overheat, warm at both sides as another hand ( _ metal now warmed with the skin of her naked shoulder _ ) joined at her waist. She felt cornered and breathless and  _ complete _ .

 

“As you said, a dance is ‘a way to dance with the one you want to the melody of one’s heart’,” Bucky’s rough voice continued with the familiar harshness of an accent he wasn’t born with, a warm breath on both her ears as both men were too close (But oh god, not close enough), “How about the three of us dance to our own melody?”

 

And Natasha? Natasha could only give a faint nod, cheeks warming as if she had no control of herself, as two hands guided her to the still full ballroom, a new song playing just as they arrived at the center of the room. 

 

And as they danced, her red gown mixing with the black of her partners’ suits, as if they were something otherworldly to those watching. 

 

The rest, as it’s said, was history. 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, hope you guys enjoyed it! I kinda accept prompts on tumblr (only Tony centric ships tho ;v), so you guys can check me out there! I'm @Gottalovethatstark there ;)  
> A nice 2019 for all of you!


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